


Stinging Pride

by Syan_Mythros



Category: Final Fantasy XIV
Genre: Bondage, M/M, Torture
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-21
Updated: 2015-11-02
Packaged: 2018-04-27 12:12:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 3
Words: 11,466
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5048089
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Syan_Mythros/pseuds/Syan_Mythros
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Some wounds do not heal"  - Ser Aymeric<br/>Just how much does it take to leave a scar, physically?  Emotionally? In a deeper way still?  What could possibly break the strong will of the Lord Commander of the Temple Knights?  Pain?  Betrayal?  Loss?  Ser Zephirin intends to find the means to do just that.  (Spoilers for the Heavensward MSQ up to/through the Vault.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Attempts at Reason

He'd been granted a reprieve it would seem, however brief. Though the dark haired elezen knew that this ordeal was far from over and the worst was likely yet to come. The cells beneath the Vault were oddly quiet. No screams from other 'heretics' echoed off stone walls, the sounds of pain and suffering were disturbingly absent. That alone unnerved him more than anything. The knights of the Heaven's Ward had brought him here what felt like ages ago though he likely suspected merely hours had passed. Hours spent with Grinnaux and a handful of the others questioning him. When he failed to give satisfactory answers they were quick with the punishment yet had been unable to loosen Aymeric's lips. His mouth twisted to a wry smile at the thought that at least he would give nothing away despite being battered and bruised thus far. Though Aymeric highly suspected the Warrior of Light and the others were high on the suspicious, if not outright wanted, list now. 

A sigh crept from the elezen's lips as the silence settled in deeper around him. The small noise seemed swallowed by the unnerving quiet of the chamber and for possibly the hundredth time blue eyes peered around at his surroundings. He was chained in a kneeling position on the floor currently, set center stage so to speak in one of the larger 'interrogation' chambers. Black shadows lurked ominously around the edge of the room, the lit wall braziers spaced along the walls doing little to pierce their darkness. A tactic Aymeric was aware was to help discourage hope in any heretic brought into these walls for interrogation. No heretic had made it out of these walls as it was, so that helped to encourage the fear as well. A large black iron chandelier lit with a near impossible number of candles hung above his head and cast shadows beneath his kneeling form. The stone beneath his knees was cold and the whole room itself had a chill to it. He knew he was well beneath the vault, several stories down which added to the chill and direness of his situation. 

Before he could ruminate further on how to try to hatch an escape plan a sound pierced the silence. The steady sound of armored footsteps, one after another coming ever closer. Aymeric's head moved to the side as much as his shackles would allow and barely out of the corner of his eye he could see the form of Ser Zephirin. The commander of the Heaven's Ward himself emerged as a brilliant spot from the inky darkness. White plate armor with blue accents stood out in stark contrast to the rest of the room. If Aymeric didn't know better Zephirin could most easily be mistaken for a beacon of hope in this dark place. Aymeric could barely see the man properly at first as he'd entered from the door behind the chained man. There was an odd look on Zephirin's face and Aymeric noted that none of the others were with him. At every other time when Zephirin had come down here at least one other knight had been there already as his interrogator. Though the man seemed to frequent the times with Charibert and Grinnaux the most. It fit given those two were the most zealous in their methods.

Slowly, at a near leisurely pace Zephirin strode toward the bound man. Inside Zephirin was partially crowing in delight, to see the man who'd taken his position as Lord Commander of the Temple Knights brought so low. However for all the delight he felt he found his bitterness not abated in the least. He'd been snubbed, passed by for this bastard born to take the honored position of Lord Commander. Though few could scoff at Zephirin's own current position as Lord Commander of the Heaven's Ward it still rankled him. It still left an unpleasant taste in his mouth as it was. His position now was certainly one of great prestige and honor yet to be passed by at all left him quite angered. His face remained impassive as he came to a stop in front of Aymeric's bound form. The darker haired elezen stared up at him, his features set and betraying nothing of his 'questioning' so far. Zephirin noted that long gone were the fine armor pieces that Aymeric usually wore. Those had been removed shortly after he'd been 'escorted' down to the chamber for his first meeting with Ser Grinnaux. Down to his smallclothes, a black cotton long sleeved shirt and pants he seemed smaller, though no less confident. Zephirin noted that the man still seemed as self assured as always, unyielding and determined to come out of this. It almost made him laugh, and a small part of himself found he would enjoy breaking that spirit in the man. Though usually that was more something Ser Charibert or Ser Grinnaux were prone to, in this particular instance Zephirin felt a streak of sadism and vindictiveness flow through him.

“My, now how the mighty have fallen, to flights of heresy and accusations laid against not only the reverent arch bishop himself, but your own father at that,” Zephirin stated, his tone bearing the smirk his fine features did not. A shake of his head sent his short pale hair to shift a bit and he crossed his arms before he gave a sigh. 

“To see the one who had been given such a high position come to this, well I suppose it must be the bastard born blood,” Zephirin continued before he began to circle the chained man, his footsteps giving an ominous echo off the floor with each step. As he continued this time a sinister look did play across his face, “The good knights of the Heaven's Ward have told me you've been quite resolved and reticent with information of your fellow heretics. Though have no fear we have our suspicions on those who are also responsible. They will meet with punishment anon.” 

Aymeric's head turned to try and keep the man in his sights as he circled and Aymeric found he could very easily liken this behavior to a predator circling its prey in anticipation of the kill. He had no doubt that Zephirin would prove as persistent if not more so than Charibert and Grinnaux had been. The man seemed to have an additional agenda here other than interrogation. Though he thought it likely a lost cause Aymeric resolved to try and reason with the man. Surely he could be brought to see reason, to see that his father's course of continued lies would lead to naught but more bloodshed. Guaranteed to lead to the needless deaths of more of his countrymen, fellow sons of Ishgard, regardless of their status. Zephirin had not ceased his circular path, though his steps had a more slow and measured gait now. It seemed he was almost waiting for a response from his prisoner. Though a long shot by far Aymeric took this chance to try his hand and opened his mouth as his brain put together a rational plea for sanity and reason.

“Ser Zephirin,” he began, keeping his tone as even as he was able, “Surely you must see that this is a path of lies and folly. Naught but more ceaseless bloodshed and continued turmoil can come from my father's course of continued lies to the people. It is not what is right and just for the good of Ishgard.”

The footsteps stopped behind him as he finished speaking, awaiting some response from the pale haired knight. Suddenly Aymeric felt a plated fist grip firmly and painfully into his dark locks. A forceful yank that tugged at his scalp and rattled his chains brought his head backward to fix eyes skyward. He fought to keep any reaction in, to not let the man have any satisfaction as Zephirin's now shadowed form loomed over him from behind. Icy eyes full of dark intent met Aymeric's own blue eyes. The bound man fought the shiver that instinctively tried to make its way down his spine. The look in the other's eyes was not one that promised any form of peaceful resolution. This of course did not mean he would give up in his attempt, only that it would be hard won, if at all, but he would give it the full measure of his ability.

“What would you, a bastard born son given his position over those more worthy know of what is right and just for the good of Ishgard?” Zephirin spat out, a sneer taking over his features. Eyes narrowed the blonde looked as if he were merely waiting for the excuse to let the rage simmering in those eyes out. “You who are no better than the degenerates from the brume. Coming into the order of knights and being given the honored title of Lord Commander. You may bleed the same color as the rest of us but make no mistake your blood is worth far less, even if we are all descendants of the original knights.”

Harshly he shoved Aymeric forward as he released the hair in his grasp. Aymeric lurched forward, the hard stone grinding into his knees painfully as he tried to catch himself before the chains bit into the tender flesh at his wrists as they pulled taught at the limit of their reach. Tousled hair fell forward before he righted himself on his knees again. 

“His plan, whatever it may be, will not bring about peace for our people,” Aymeric implored as he once again sought to bring his captor to see reason, “Everything we know has been built on a thousand years of lies. All to convince the common man that they fight for the greater good when it is naught but a death sentence. He claims he will bring about change but his means are not the right path to follow. We have the way to begin making reparations...”

Before Aymeric could continue a booted foot met sharply with his back, sending him lurching forward again and interrupting his plea. The chains clanked loudly and dug further into his already abused flesh as Zephirin came around to the front of him. A plate covered hand gripped Aymeric's chin and yanked it up to face the form of Zephirin who now stood before him. A cruel sneer was etched onto the blonde man's features as he saw Aymeric's eyes widen slightly. Even though the rest of his face held its stoic look, that small give away told Zephirin that there was fear here. It pleased him and he knew he wanted to see more of it, to watch this man before him suffer for wronging him.

“The Archbishop has a plan, such that your feeble mind cannot comprehend. It is just and for the good of Ishgard. Your pathetic attempts to sway him, and myself, shall come to nothing, because you are nothing,” The blonde's tone was vicious and harsh, his eyes narrowing further into a glare as he continued.

“All your attempts have met with failure, your allies will soon be dead, and after much suffering I will personally ensure you join them,” the knight vowed as his grip tightened on the shackled man's chin. Aymeric stifled a wince as the pain on his chin increased and his brain realized there was no talking his way out of this. Still though he vowed to not betray anyone else, they had warned him of the likely outcome of his choice to follow this course. Now when the cards were down he would keep his knowledge to himself and withstand whatever tortures came his way. Grinnaux had already been brutal, as was his nature but a cleric had been down to 'patch him up' for the next evening's attempts which had been Charibert for a round of how many ways can you sear flesh. The man had taken extra delight in torturing him after an encounter with the Warrior of Light left him enraged. He'd muttered endlessly about how the filthy rats would be exterminated soon enough. Once more he'd been healed to their satisfaction before what was actually his third day captured. His morning had started with Grinnaux bright and early, then there had been the long break. It felt odd to him, and he could only surmise that things were happening which required their attention. Not long thereafter however Zephirin had come and that was how he now found himself.

Eyes met his attacker's again and he saw something else there. Before he could analyze what it was Zephirin's other hand came up to hold a small object in front of his face. A small key, the likes of which could open his shackles. This brought two thoughts to Aymeric's mind, either a chance at escape awaited, or something far more sinister at the hands of his captor. Knowing how this interaction seemed to be going Aymeric highly suspected something sinister was coming. Roughly Zephirin released the man's chin as he stepped back a pace.

“I've thought on what to do with you,” he explained as he held the key up to look at it, “I don't want this to be over quickly, nor easily. I want you to know the full extent of my ire towards you 'Ser' Aymeric.”

Zephirin practically spit out the title Ser as he moved to stand behind Aymeric again. All of Aymeric's senses were on high alert at this point and the click of the key in the shackle lock seemed almost deafening. Before he had the chance to escape though the chains that still wound around his wrists and ankles were pulled tight, dragging him unwillingly to his feet. Muscles ached in protest after being bound down for so long and the dark haired man almost stumbled, though managed to catch himself at the last moment. The chill of the room bit into the parts of him that had been in close contact before and were now no longer cramped into a huddled position. 

“I'll give you this courtesy, walk or be drug,” Zephirin ordered as he came around to the front of Aymeric again, chains in hand. A part of Aymeric wanted to resist, to be petulant and force the other's hand. Yet he knew that it was not in his best interests if he wanted to make it out of this in one piece, or Halone above alive at all. He nodded his agreement and took a step forward, Zephirin began to move, the chains still dangling loose between them as Aymeric followed him. The pair made their way toward a large mounted framework. Thick metal rings were placed at intervals around it for the prisoner to be chained to and Aymeric's mind quickly realized that to rechain him up Ser Zephirin would have to surely let at least one of the others go. Zephirin however seemed to steal that thought as quickly as it had come.

“If you try to escape I will personally treat each of your 'friends' to thrice the pain originally planned for them.”

This struck home and Aymeric, though it felt so against his nature, stayed passive and allowed the other man to maneuver him into his new prison. He would not let his friends suffer more if he had the chance to stop or prevent it. To his surprise Zephirin kept the two chains attached to his wrists together and released the ones on his legs. Careful to keep them tight the elf climbed up a ladder at the one side of the rectangular framework and looped the chains through the top most middle ring. A further tug which yanked Aymeric up on his tip toes caused a vicious smile to cross Zephirin's face. He was thoroughly enjoying the discomfort he was causing the other man. After the chains were secured up top he took time to secure each leg's chain to the side, leaving Aymeric standing legs spread a bit and arms above him. Aymeric found he could almost stand comfortably like this and knew that would likely not be the case for long. The fact that he had some movement range like this told him something unpleasant was coming as he had room to move so he could react.

Zephirin disappeared behind him again and Aymeric lost sight of the man. He jumped slightly before he tamped down the reaction when he felt Zephirin's cold, plated hands brush the back of his neck. A dark chuckle and a ripping sound met his ears as he felt his already thin shirt get ripped down the middle. Cold air assaulted his now exposed back and he was unable to repress the shiver that traveled down his spine. Zephirin gave a snicker before a sharp pain lashed out at Aymeric's back, replacing the cold with a hot stinging fire. Aymeric's body jerked forward of its own accord at first as the cat of nine tails struck home. Before he could recover from the initial blow a second blow was already upon him, leather meeting with flesh and drawing the man forward yet again. In his mind Aymeric kept repeating to himself that this was physical torture and he could and would endure it, that this was something he could rise above. The third swing however came after a pause, no less hard than the first two but after a longer wait, and from another angle. Aymeric tried to control his body's own jerking reaction to these assaults. Again and again at a varied pace the cat of nine tails struck home against reddened and lacerated flesh. Zephirin took pride in the havoc he was wreaking on the man’s back, grinning wider and wider as the flesh tore and Aymeric's body shuddered with each strike. It's true the man was managing to hold back the extent of his suffering, but each fresh strike brought him closer to the breaking point and closer to showing Zephirin the true extent of his torture.

With a vicious smirk Zephirin gripped the thick leather handle in his hands before bringing it down again on Aymeric's abused back. The man almost hung in the chains now, finding even the strength to stand and weather this assault waning. Zephirin found himself a bit surprised at the man giving this early, he'd expected far more determination and petulant pride to carry Aymeric through many more hours of 'fun.' Curious to see the suffering on his victims face he walked closer to the bound man and gently trailed the cat of nine tails over his back as he reached Aymeric's side. The man twitched as the tendrils lightly ran across his back and Zephirin smirked once more. Standing close enough that he had to step over the leg chain on Aymeric's right he drug the tendrils with a light smack on the bound man's side. The flesh here was untouched thus far and he watched Aymeric's eyes shut tight as he tried to withhold any reaction. Slowly Zephirin circled to the front and stepped back a pace, his eyes eagerly taking in the sight of his prey. Aymeric's usually tousled hair looked more disheveled and perspiration had accumulated on his brow, no doubt the result of his struggle to remain 'in control' of his reactions. The shirt hung loose around his form now that it was ripped apart in the back and as eyes traveled downward Zephirin noted with wide eyes something else. 

“Oh this is too rich,” he crowed, a wide leer covering his features, “Far too rich indeed. To think that the whoreson Lord Commander of the Temple Knights would prefer to be in the place of the whipping boy.”


	2. Cracking Will

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The resolve in Aymeric is trying to valiantly resist the things happening to him, but can it? Will Zephirin succeed in breaking the man?

Aymeric's eyes flashed open and a glare lit upon his features. He could not deny, to a point anyway, what the man said. It was true that for all the control he demanded in regular life he found a proclivity for the lack of control in certain situations. It was something that Estinien drew upon quite regularly in their random interludes. The dragoon was quite all right with taking the lead and pulling control from the knight especially if it left him a writhing mass of hot flesh beneath him. To say they hadn't on occasion used shackles and a crop themselves would also be a lie. Aymeric inwardly cursed his body for betraying him in this manner. Despite his best efforts to contain any reaction to what was happening to him it seemed a part of him had resisted that control. He fought the flush that would have risen to his cheeks as he glared at Zephirin and his cat that ate the canary grin.

“You enjoy me beating you, your own traitorous body tells me this,” His captor murmured as he walked closer til he stood right in front of Aymeric, “I suppose in terms of punishment this isn't working the way I'd originally planned. As such things are wont to go, I'll have to improvise.”

A wicked grin painted his face as Aymeric quickly tried to tell his body to behave and stop being aroused by his circumstances. Before he had much of a chance to think he found the hand which didn't hold the cat of nine tails behind his head and Zephirin's mouth smashed down on his own in a brutal kiss. There was no passion, care, love, or anything else of its kind. It was a kiss of seething anger and a desire to dominate. Plated fingers gripped into dark locks and forced the man's head to stay where it was and weather the assault. This was nothing like kisses shared with Estinien, while there was a sense of domination it was an accepted one, this was not. Aymeric fought to pull back and away and after a moment Zephirin removed his lips a smirk across his features. He pulled the man in again, this time cheek to cheek as he slowly trailed the cat of nine tails across the man's back with his other free hand. Aymeric shuddered and Zephirin cracked it lightly against the exposed back again. Aymeric stiffened and tried to not move forward as a result but it was a futile attempt. Between the stinging sensations of his back and the close proximity of his captor he had little option.

“Oh you have no idea just how much I'm going to enjoy this, how much I will enjoy using you, how much I will enjoy breaking you,” his voice was a breathy whisper in Aymeric's ear and the dark haired elf found the sensation making his plight worse. He'd always had sensitive ears, most elezen did in fact. This was likely something Zephirin was aware of himself through personal experience and the light caresses of breath against the shell of his ear gave Aymeric a tingling sensation down his spine. He fought to resist the urges of his body, but when faced with something that was such a powerful stimulus fighting back was a moot point. Heat pooled downward and the half started erection he had in his trousers hardened a bit. Given their position it was folly to think that Zephirin hadn't noticed even with his plate armor on. A chuckle met Aymeric's ear before Zephirin added, “Well, well how easily broken you are…. pet.”

Suddenly a warm, wet tongue met the soft flesh of Aymeric's ear and he stifled a groan as his body flooded with warmth again. The effort of convincing himself to not react was getting more and more impossible. The plan itself was entirely lost when he felt teeth nibbling at the lower part of his ear. Against his wishes a low moan escaped from his mouth and he could feel the chuckle from Zephirin, the breath sending another shiver down his spine. The hand that had been holding the back of Aymeric's head trailed down his side and slowly Zephirin brought it down over hips and around to the front. 

“Aren't you the dirty minded one,” he taunted as he slowly brushed the gauntlet clad hand over Aymeric's still clothed member. It twitched involuntarily of its own accord and Zephirin repeated the motion. Again Aymeric's cock twitched and hardened in response and the dark haired elf closed his eyes, his face turned to hide the embarrassed blush staining his cheeks at this situation. Zephirin's hand stilled in its movements and slowly he stepped away. Once the cat of nine tails was hung back on the side of the framework he retrieved a small dagger from a nearby table. Aymeric watched closely as Zephirin approached with it in his right hand as his left reached out for the tattered black shirt Aymeric still wore. Almost carefully in a teasing fashion Zephirin cut the shirt free from the bound man, leaving his chest exposed to Zephirin's eyes and the biting chill of the dungeon. A shiver shook Aymeric's form once and then again as suddenly the dagger was trailing down his bare chest. A breathy moan hitched in his throat as it passed down his sternum until he reached his belly button. His eyes watched Zephirin's face as the blonde elf took great delight in moving it with the tip barely touching his skin in a side to side fashion from his navel down to the waistband of the black trousers.

“Ready to beg yet?” Zephirin gloated as he pulled the dagger away and moved his free hand to lightly encircle Aymeric's bare throat. Eyes slightly hazed by arousal met Zephirin's own as he watched the knight close the distance again. The dagger was trailing down a bound arm now and still Zephirin held his throat gently, face inches from Aymeric's. Aymeric could feel the warm breath from the man and finally he bit out, ”Never.” 

“Oh good,” Zephirin murmured before he took the dagger to Aymeric's cheek and pressed it along the man's cheek bone, just hard enough for a few droplets of blood to well to the surface, “I wouldn't want this to be over too quickly. I intend to savor every last drop of your suffering.” As he finished speaking he brought his mouth to Aymeric's cheek and slowly, purposefully his tongue reached out to lick the blood from the fresh cut before moving up to once again breathe on the shell of the man's ear.

“You're quite tasty pet, despite your breeding,” he baited before the tongue reached out once more to sinfully tease Aymeric's ear. After a pass of his tongue to the pointed tip he felt the man shudder against him and Zephirin chuckled.

“So eager despite your defiant nature. Let's see shall we, how much you can withstand before you beg like a bitch in heat,” he posed as he pulled his face back to meet the man's eyes again. Zephirin released Aymeric and moved back to replace the dagger on the table. To Aymeric's surprise Zephirin's plate gloves were removed and joined the dagger on the table. The blonde grinned and made a point to show his now bare hands before he moved behind Aymeric. Suddenly Zephirin's plate clad form came up flush against Aymeric's back. The plate hard against his battered back as Zephirin's right hand crept around to lay against Aymeric's neck. A push from the warm, hand against his throat left his head slighty back to leave those ever vulnerable ears exposed to his mouth. Zephirin's other bare hand crept around and to the south, gently giving 'accidental' caresses to the clothed erection his prisoner sported. The right hand at his throat traced oddly gentle caresses over the skin there as Zephirin gave a gentle breath on Aymeric's ears.

“Tell me pet,” he whispered, only loud enough for the man at his mercy to hear. The warm hand at Aymeric's member grasped it and gave it a stroke through the cloth, “How does this feel?”

Aymeric stifled the groan as best he could but his hips jerked of their own accord into Zephirin's hand. The armored knight chuckled and the hand on Aymeric's throat slowly trailed a leisurely pathway down the bare chest. The chill and sensations seemed to have left Aymeric's nipples slightly hardened and Zephirin's fingers found those in his exploration. He squeezed one a bit roughly which earned another thrust into his hand from Aymeric. With one hand at his member, and the other teasing sensitive nipples Aymeric found himself quickly loosing himself in the sensations. The sharp reminder that this was not entirely welcome came as he felt teeth clench down on his throat. Zephirin growled low in his throat as he bit and sucked at the captive man's neck leaving a growing bruise in his wake. He found he wanted his 'pet' to have reminders of this. So that until his last moments at his hands he would know who his master was. Aymeric's mouth opened and a moan slipped out which encouraged Zephirin to flick the nipple in his grasp. With one final nip at the man's throat he pulled back to survey his work. Aymeric now sported a very visible, very purple bite mark. Zephirin casually trailed the hands on Aymeric's body over places as he moved a step back and came to the man's front. Aymeric's eyes were hooded and he was clearly losing the battle to resist this. Zephirin's hands moved down the front of Aymeric's chest before slowly trailing back up, dull nails raking paths over muscles. As he made it further up Aymeric's chest shuddered and the man's eyes involuntarily closed for a moment before opening again, half lidded.

“Enlighten me pet,” Zephirin inquired as hands made the downward path again, this time slower and with more teasing, “Is it your precious Warrior of Light who binds you and beats you? Perhaps the bastard of House Fortemps? Who is the one most dear to you?”

As he questioned the man, almost casually, Zephirin's hands slipped to the waistband of Aymeric's pants and slipped ever so slightly in the top. Aymeric's breath hitched yet he said nothing, he would not give Zephirin the pleasure, nor would he betray a friend or his lover. The fingers inside the waistband of Aymeric's pants skimmed along the skin as they worked from his hips toward his front.

“Still unwilling to confide all? I'm sure the proper motivation can have you spilling all sorts of things,” Zephirin trailed off as his left hand dipped further into the waistband while his right moved to grasp the leather cord that held them together in front. Fingers brushed the tip of Aymeric's erection as a tug pulled the laces out of their neat bow and slowly Zephirin loosened each of he strings as his other hand continued to tease the tip of Aymeric's member. The man jerked a bit as he sensations stimulated the sensitive organ and Zephirin took great delight in working him up a bit before he pulled his fingers away.

“Now, now pet,” he chastised as his hands moved back to the waistband of Aymeric's pants, “We can't have you getting overly excited. Not until you share a few things with me.”

Zephirin gave him a smirk as he carefully toyed with the waistband. He acted ready to wiggle the pants down, only to pull them and his fingers back up, tracing them over the planes of Aymeric's stomach. Fingers carefully 'walked' down the center of his stomach to the small trail of hair that led down to his pubic region. Aymeric's eyes shut and he desperately tried to control himself. He cared for Estinien, he would not betray Estinien. Surely this was mostly out of his control, yet he felt he'd be committing a betrayal if his body gave in at all.

“Now who could it be, if not your precious warrior or the bastard of Fortemps,” he trailed off, his tone teasing as if he were trying to dredge up a list in his head. Aymeric knew this was for show, Zephirin was far too calculating to not remember the allies who would be there at his side, and possibly be his lover.

“Tsk tsk, that blonde hyur woman?” Zephirin posed the question as he moved behind Aymeric again, his fingers still trailing the skin at Aymeric's waist. “It wouldn't be terribly surprising given your own status,” Zephirin continued as his hands suddenly dipped in to roughly grab and squeeze Aymeric's behind. The other elf raised to near tiptoes from the surprise and in keeping with the unpredictable nature the hands moved next to tug down Aymeric's pants slightly. The tops of his buttocks and the tip of his member met the chill of the dungeon and it had him sucking in a breath between his teeth. Zephirin chuckled and once again went to retrieve the dagger before he slowly cut Aymeric's pants from him. Aymeric was fully exposed now and it left him feeling quite a bit vulnerable. Zephirin had found this one thing that could possibly actually break him. Physical torture was something he could deal with, but to make his own body betray his heart… That was truly torture. He was drawn back to the here and now as Zephirin held the remnants of his pants before his face as the dagger trailed down his cheek.

“It's a shame really, these would make such a wonderful gag,” Zephirin explained as he gestured with the hand holding the cut fabric before a dark look covered his face with a malicious smile, “However I find I want to hear every sound you make, every cry you let spill loose, every time you beg.”

“I want to hear your voice crying with need for me,” Zephirin continued as he threw the clothing aside so he could wrap his hand around Aymeric's erection. As he moved his hand up and down on it he felt Aymeric try to resist thrusting into his hand, the twitches and spasms of the cock in his hand betrayed that much. With a smirk Zephirin moved away to replace the dagger on the table and watched as Aymeric's cock twitched again as his hand was removed. The on again, off again stimulation was building up painfully in the man and Zephirin intended to take full advantage of that and more. He knew Aymeric's eyes were locked on him, hazed with lust and a very primal need that the stubborn elf was still attempting to fight. 

Slowly Zephirin began to undo the buckles and ties that held his white plate armor on. He made an effort to take each piece off slowly and ensured Aymeric's eyes never left his form. A pauldron came off and he made an exaggerated motion of rubbing the muscle it had been removed from once it was set aside. The breast plate itself came off after a stretch once both pauldrons were removed and Zephirin made it a point to run his hands down the chainmail shirt he wore beneath. Fingers crept under the edges of it before slowly he pulled it up off his head and tossed it aside with the rest of his armor leaving him clad only in his boots and leg armor over top black leather pants. Aymeric's eyes had not left him during this whole performance, because that is entirely what it was. Zephirin had made a point of teasing with the removal of his clothing and with the other man so worked up he could barely think straight it just fueled the fire.

Zephirin sauntered over to his captive audience and stepped up to him, close enough their bare chests were nearly touching. His left hand stroked down from the man's chest back around to his buttocks and squeezed harshly. This drew the desired reaction from Aymeric and he shifted up and away from the hand, pressing further into Zephirin. Aymeric's mouth opened to make a sound but the groan was swallowed as Zephirin's mouth claimed his again, his tongue darting forward to explore the other man's mouth. His right hand gripped the back of Aymeric's head as the kiss continued and the dark haired elf groaned again into the other's mouth. Zephirin continued to almost painfully knead the cheek in his hand as he moved his attentions to nibbling and sucking on Aymeric's lower lip. No care or gentleness was present as he bit hard enough to actually draw blood before he licked that away. The hand on Aymeric's behind ceased it's squeezing and pulled away only to be back a moment later in a sharp open handed smack to the tender flesh.

“Ready to beg yet pet?” Zephirin whispered, his face still mere inches from Aymeric's. His hot breath tickled Aymeric's lips and Aymeric found himself unable to give a voice to his answer. Instead he settled for a negative shake of his head. Zephirin grinned at the man's inability to even speak right now and trailed his hands down Aymeric's sides to his hips. “I think I can change that,” Zephirin promised as he slowly started moving down Aymeric's body with his lips. Purple bite marks blossomed along the dark haired elf's neck, chest, stomach and hips as Zephirin knelt down, eye level with Aymeric's erect member. Aymeric's eyes were locked on the blonde man as the hands on his hips squeezed before raking blunt nails across the flesh towards his cock. Zephirin smirked before a hand slid down to gently cup Aymeric's balls as the other took the rigid flesh in a light grip. Slowly Zephirin moved his thumb up and down on the front side before dragging it back up to the tip. Moisture had gathered at the tip and Zephirin swirled his thumb over it with a bit more pressure. Aymeric groaned and the cock in Zephirin's hands twitched in response. At a snail's pace Zephirin slid the thumb back down trailing the precum down the length of Aymeric's member. Zephirin's other hand teased and played with Aymeric's balls which left the other man near ready to thrust into the hand that held him. Aymeric's eyes had closed and his head tilted back, the sensations almost too much. Those eyes shot open however when he felt the wetness of Zephirin's tongue running along his length. His hips jerked of their own accord when a warm, wet mouth covered the head of his cock while hands stroked and played with the shaft and his balls. The ability to resist was lost to him in that moment as Zephirin's tongue swirled the tip of his member and the blonde elf gave a bobbing suck as if it were a treat from All Saint's Wake.

A few more twirls and Aymeric found his hips trying to jerk of their own accord into the warm mouth that encompassed him. Every time he felt himself get close Zephirin slowed down the pace and drug out the sensations building up inside him. At this point Aymeric's body was begging for a release yet Zephirin seemed unwilling to give one so easily. After a bit more teasing Zephirin pulled his mouth away to look up at the captive man, his hands still lightly playing with Aymeric.

“Are you ready to beg yet?” Zephirin asked, as his hand stroked the length again. Aymeric gave no response other than closed eyes and his teeth digging into his lower lip. Zephirin gave a small shake of his head before engulfing the flesh in his hands again with his mouth. Aymeric gave a groan low in his throat as Zephirin took him deeper into his mouth this time, his tongue doing sinful things. The dam broke finally and Aymeric was so close to releasing. Without even realizing what he was saying he groaned out a quiet 'Oh… Estinien.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welp, finished this up and now onto the next part where we see Zephirin's reaction to Aymeric calling out Estinien's name. Surely this won't end well for our favorite Lord Commander. Then again if the 3.1 patch video is any indication he's in for some more pain. Thanks to my awesome beta reader, slytherinsupremacy95 (on tumblr) for going over this again. Hopefully you all enjoy this.


	3. Resolve Shattered

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Just what does fate have in store for Aymeric now that he's slipped and revealed his feelings for Estinien to his adversary. How will said dragoon react when he finds his lover at the mercy of another.

Suddenly the suction on his member ceased and the mouth encircling him was gone. The chill in the air bit sharply into him as hands moved to now painfully grip his hips, dull fingernails digging into soft flesh as ice blue eyes glared up at him. Aymeric's eyes shifted down and realized his mistake, let free in the throes of his body's responses. A tinge of dread crept up his spine at the positively malevolent look Zephirin had fixed on him. 

“Well, well,” Zephirin bit out as he stood and moved back a few paces to put space between himself and Aymeric, “So your lover is the dragoon? Fitting I suppose, they are known for their lancework.”

Aymeric's brain slowly awakened to the danger he was now in. The lust filled haze was ebbing away and leaving a very real sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach. Blue eyes watched as with a new ferocity Zephirin unstrapped the plate armor on his thighs, leaving him clad in only the black leather pants he wore underneath and his armored boots. He turned and picked up a thick, sturdy wooden cane from the table behind him. Held in his one hand he pulled the small shackle key out again and made his way back to Aymeric. After tucking the cane under an arm he roughly undid the shackles on the man's wrists. Before Aymeric could form even a drastic attack of opportunity the cane came crashing down on his left leg. The pain lanced through him and he nearly buckled, when it came again harder this time he did. The stone bit painfully into his knees as he landed on them hard, his hands going forward to catch some of his weight. Zephirin tossed the key back onto the table and brought the cane down once more, this time on Aymeric's exposed and already abused back. His now free hand went to the lacings on his leather pants and swiftly undid them. 

“Up on your knees pet,” Zephirin spat as he worked the pants open to expose his own hardening cock to the dungeon air. His hand stroked it once before shooting down to grip into Aymeric’s hair again and roughly jerks the man's head up. Involuntarily Aymeric's hands went to find something to steady himself on and met with Zephirin's hips. Zephirin's member bobbed in his face and his eyes gazed up to see the malicious glint in the blonde's eyes.

“Suck,” Zephirin demanded, his hand still fisted painfully in dark locks as he lightly, as a warning, tapped the cane against Aymeric's leg. Aymeric seemed to be regaining that streak of defiance and resistance so Zephirin pulled on his hair again as he added, “Suck and if you dare to bite me I will personally tear your precious dragoon limb from limb, muscle from bone before your very eyes.”

Aymeric swallowed thickly, he had few options here and a part of him prayed for a savior to find him right now before this escalated any further. Though a part of him rankled at anyone other than Estinien seeing him in such a state, he certainly didn't want this. Though to be fair he didn't even want Estinien to see him like this, on his knees before his enemy, stripped bare. After a moment of silence the cane came crashing down on his leg again and his mouth flew open with a cry of pain. In that moment Zephirin thrust forward and encased himself in Aymeric's warm mouth. At first Aymeric felt like gagging as he wasn't in the least prepared for this assault. He had to switch to breathing through his nose quickly as Zephirin's cock thrust down into his throat again and again. Zephirin's hand helped along as he held Aymeric's head still as he literally fucked the captive elf's mouth. Aymeric quickly acquiesced to do some on his own, if only to lessen the almost painful thrusting into his mouth and tugging on his hair.

“You've done this before pet,” Zephirin offered as he thrust in again before he continued, “Did you do this for Estinien? Did you suck him off on your knees like this? Oh if only he could see you now, working that sinful tongue on someone other than him.”

Zephirin gave another thrust and Aymeric shut his eyes, the words bringing a pain to his heart. Even if he ever made it out of here which he deemed unlikely at this point how could he ever begin to look at any of them again. How could he ever look at Estinien again. That thought hurt terribly and he felt a lump try to form in his throat until once again Zephirin's cock thrust into his unwilling mouth. That drew him back to the current predicament and out of his thoughts. After a few more thrusts Zephirin pulled out and away, as Aymeric struggled to keep his balance on his knees. His leg was throbbing as a large black and blue mark slowly rose to the surface and his knees were scraped from the harsh stone floor. He tried to retain some of his dignity despite the circumstances and tried to school his face to not give Zephirin any more satisfaction. The blonde stepped back and, without putting the cane down dipped his fingers into a small pot that set atop the table. A goopy thick substance coated his fingers when he removed them and he gave Aymeric a dark look. Slowly he moved behind the bound man and Aymeric highly suspected he knew where this was heading. Suddenly the cane came down again this time on his other leg and then again on his back in rapid succession. He fell forward, his knees scraping a bit as his hands flew out to catch himself. Before he could begin to right himself again he felt hands on his behind, spreading him before something terribly cold and moist dabbed at the now exposed area. He jumped a bit in surprise, pulling away instinctively from the cold and a hand harshly smacked his ass before going to his hip. Once he was dragged back closer the hands were back again, spreading and the next thing he knew Aymeric felt a finger, slick with whatever substance was on them probing and pushing inside him. He tried again to scoot away but the hand on his hip held him tightly in place.

Moments later another digit, equally as slick as the first pushed into him and he fought the urge to make some noise, be it in protest or pleasure. He didn't trust his own voice right now to not betray him like his body did. After a bit more probing he felt the fingers leave him and he felt oddly empty. This lasted mere moments before something else, significantly larger was suddenly at his entrance. He groaned as the head of Zephirin's cock pushed in barely, the blonde elf's hands on his hips. 

“Don't,” Aymeric groaned so quietly he wasn't sure Zephirin heard it. All pretense was gone now, now he was lost and desperately trying to endure what he could. He knew this was not something he wanted and it made his heart heavy, he'd only ever done this with Estinien. Zephirin gave no verbal response and instead pulled on Aymeric's hips as he pushed, forcing more of himself into the unwilling man. The substance he'd used earlier made the intrusion easier but Zephirin was still much larger than the fingers he'd used briefly and Aymeric could feel that, he could feel his muscles being stretched around the stiff member invading his body. There was little preamble here and he could feel pain instead of the usual pleasure when he and Estinien engaged in such activities. Zephirin gave a groan as he thrust again until he was fully in and paused. After a moment, more for his own adjustment to the sensation than a care for the pain Aymeric might feel Zephirin pulled back out a bit before roughly thrusting back in. His hands gripped Aymeric's hips painfully and practically yanked the man on and off his cock in a repetitive motion. Zephirin's boots helped protect his knees from the stone, Aymeric however was afforded no such courtesy. On his knees, bent over with his hands holding his top half from the cold floor the movements were scraping his knees terribly though Aymeric counted this a small grievance compared to all the rest of this.

“I don't hear you begging yet,” Zephirin taunted with a particularly deep thrust. Aymeric was biting his lip to keep from making any sound. Each time Zephirin thrust in he seemed to be hitting that particular spot inside that, when Estinien had done this, had sent Aymeric over the edge. His heart warred with his body as it wound tighter and tighter, his cock twitching each time that spot was hit. Zephirin gave a particularly rough thrust again before he slapped Aymeric's ass. The elf made a sound and whether it was a groan of pleasure or pain Zephirin couldn't be sure. He was sure that he wanted to hear the wretched man screaming his name at the end of this so he knew who was breaking him. Zephirin slowed his pace as he leaned forward, his chest against Aymeric's back as he stayed fully inside the man below him. His left hand crept around to Aymeric's front and dull nails raked a path down the man's chest until they reached his hardened member. A finger stroked the length which caused it to twitch and Zephirin smirked as he took it in hand.

“Who is your master pet,” Zephirin growled lowly in Aymeric's ear as his hand slowly and teasingly stroked his shaft. Aymeric gave no reply at first, save a shudder each time the hand toyed with him. Zephirin's other hand came down on his ass again as he repeated the question. Still Aymeric gave no reply other than a groan, this time deeper. Carefully Zephirin's hand made its way back to Aymeric's hip and he started to thrust in and out again, slowly at first but with increasing speed as if to punctuate each word of his next question.

“Tell me Lord Commander, who now commands you,” Zephirin demanded as he continued to roughly grip Aymeric's hips and fucked the elezen senseless. Aymeric collapsed down to his elbows in front, the sensations too much for his body. He found the attempt to fight it futile and felt his cock spasming, ready to release at all the stimulation. Zephirin continued his assault, his own release near at hand as he continued to quickly make the man in front of him his. After a particularly deep thrust Aymeric shuddered and started to say the first syllables of a name that were most assuredly not Zephirin's. A harsh fist to his leg where it was blossoming into a large purple bruise and he realized his mistake. Finally he couldn't hold it any longer, he was so close it was painful and again Zephirin demanded, ”Who commands you pet, name him.”

Aymeric bit his lip before a groan escaped him as Zephirin continued to take him roughly. Finally with a groan he cried out, “Zeph-irin.”

“Yes pet,” the blonde elf hissed as he pistoned into the flesh beneath him with a greater ferocity now. Beneath him he could feel Aymeric shuddering and he watched as one of the man's hands crept from its place supporting himself to stroke his own member. Moments later Aymeric let out a moan as he released all over his own hand and the vault floor. Zephirin lost himself at that point to the sensation and thrust again and again until he found his own release and let it take him. Hands firmly gripped the elf below him and held him in place as Zephirin thrust in fully and stayed put, emptying himself into him, claiming him. After a moment he pulled away, his member softening as he saw traces of his fluids mixed with blood leaking out along the backs of Aymeric's thighs. The man on the floor sagged as the hands holding his hips up disappeared and Zephirin couldn't help but appreciate the scene. The high and mighty Lord Commander of the Temple Knights here, before him on the floor covered in fluids and bite marks, looking like a well fucked whore.

Zephirin stood and made his way to where the remnants of Aymeric's clothes had been tossed before carefully wiping himself clean with the fabric. The whole while he watched his 'pet' as the man stayed in a crumpled heap on the floor. After he'd cleaned himself he tossed the fabric down by Aymeric, but just out of his reach, as if the final insult to injury that the man couldn't cleanse himself of the signs of their deeds. Slowly Zephirin regarbed himself in his armor, taking time to straighten each piece until he was once again the image of pristine knighthood. This brought delight to him, to see Aymeric stripped bare, bruised and bloody while he retained his noble appearance. 

“Don't forget pet,” he taunted as he strolled over and a booted foot met with Aymeric's abused leg, which sent the man down to the ground into his own mess, “Ser Grinnaux will be down to visit you next once he deals with your friends. I should warn you, he can be quite the insatiable beast for carnage.”

The man seemed near giddy as he left the thinly veiled threat that Aymeric's hell was long from over. Aymeric gave no response as he tried to collect himself through all that had happened. When Zephirin saw there was no reply to his threat he stalked from the dungeon to go and check on the state of affairs with his pet's friends. He'd take great delight in dismantling them one by one, especially in front of the shattered man. Though he knew Grinnaux and Paulecrain had their own personal things to work out with the Warrior of Light and the silver haired elf brat who'd come to Ishgard with them. After the trial by combat over said brat and the lalafell they'd been left with a bitter streak toward the two.

~~~

Time passed though Aymeric was unsure how much. He knew he felt lost and a hopelessness had crept over him and tightened its reigns. He had faith his friends were strong, and would no doubt succeed against their foes, but then again given how inhuman the Heaven's Ward had become… Tis like they were possessed by a force unknown. In all his time of knowing Zephirin though Aymeric could not say he liked the man, he found he'd never seen this much seething hatred boiling beneath the surface. That aside Aymeric found little solace in the moments alone he found himself in now. Curled into himself on the floor as much as he could, battered, bloody and left with the sticky signs of his earlier torment he waited. Whether he waited for death to release him, or by some Halone granted miracle someone to rescue him he didn't know. He felt tired, and despite the chill and his state he drifted fitfully to sleep on the stone floor.

~~~

“Where would he be?” Estinien demanded as he held the knight with one armored fist up, his lance dangerously close to the knight's jugular. The terrified knight had never seen the dragoon in this state before and it seemed that his companions were in no mood to be trifled with either. Lucia, the second in command to Ser Aymeric stood to one side of Estinien and Lord Haurchefant of House Fortemps to the other. Early into their expedition to rescue Aymeric the two had learned that Estinien's rage was not to be quelled and as long as the dragoon was not outright killing anyone who wasn't a threat to their actual lives they let him go. Lucia found herself in shock at the fervor the dragoon displayed. She chalked most of it up to the fact the two were old friends, after all they spent quite a few nights in Aymeric's chambers reliving old tales and sharing a drink. She wasn't sure if it went past just friends, but she had never pried and Aymeric had never offered an answer so she left it alone. His private business was just that, his. 

Haurchefant however knew. He knew why the dragoon was ready to personally rend each member of the Heaven's Ward to pieces and even the Arch Bishop with his bare hands. Aymeric had confided in him one evening when the two had been talking over hot cocoa at Dragonhead. Haurchefant had started of course, going on in honeyed words about his precious and glorious warrior who had done so many things for himself and the camp in addition to all they did for Eorzea as a whole. Aymeric had chuckled as Haurchefant went on and on before the dark haired elf simply stated, “You love the warrior of light.” Haurchefant had been taken aback a moment before he realized, yes he indeed did love the warrior and used that as his motivation to pursue a relationship. When he'd asked how Aymeric had been so sure the next time they sat down for a chat, after success on Haurchefant's part to confess his feelings to the warrior of light Aymeric smiled wistfully and explained he knew the feeling quite intimately and confessed his situation with the surly dragoon. Brought back to the present as Estinien slammed the captive man against the wall again before repeating his demand Haurchefant stepped forward.

“Mayhaps we can get our answer if we don't job him too hard Estinien,” the knight suggested carefully as he gave the prisoner a pointed look. The man was clearly terrified if the wet trails down his pant legs were any indication and Estinien looked ready to just impale the man and move on to the next to question. Estinien growled as his lance moved a hair fraction closer to the man's throat.

“D-d-d-down in the ma-main interrogation cell,” the terrified man sputtered as he squeezed his eyes shut in preparation for the worst. His dignity had been lost when he'd wet himself out of fear as the dragoon threatened him, to die now he figured might be a small mercy. Haurchefant placed a hand on Estinien's arm that held the lance as he gave the dragoon a knowing look. 

“There, we have our answer let us be off as I'm sure you have no desire to wait longer,” Haurchefant murmured to Estinien and slowly the man lowered the lance. As it pulled away from his throat the captive knight almost breathed a sigh of relief before he was unceremoniously smashed against the wall and rendered unconscious. Haurchefant sighed at that but reasoned they did not need the man running off for help. They'd likely face more opposition on the way down. There was already a trail of mostly unconscious bodies behind them thus far though a few had fought to their death.

Estinien dropped the man before taking off at a fast pace towards the stairwells down. They had two flights to go down before they'd reach the main interrogation cell Lucia had explained as they descended. One flight down they had to move down a corridor before taking a different staircase down. It had been designed she explained to make it harder to escape from on the off chance someone did get free, and to help disorient their sense of direction when they were brought down. Haurchefant nodded and the trio made their way into the new hallway as several knights stepped out of corridors to block their path. It was easily twenty to their three and Estinien growled loudly, his anger flaring. Haurchefant noted this and quickly made a decision.

“Go on ahead Estinien,” Haurchefant ordered as he readied his sword and shield, “We will take care of them, you go ahead and find Aymeric.”

“But...” Lucia started and Haurchefant looked at her, his eyes softening for a moment.

“He needs to go find Aymeric, we will offer him the diversion he needs here,” Haurchefant explained gently, hoping that the emphasis he placed on needs got through to her. She looked at the dragoon and noticed exactly how on edge he was before she looked back to Haurchefant and nodded.

“Halone protect you,” she ordered Estinien as she readied her own weapon, “Find him and bring him back safe.”

Estinien nodded and as Lucia and Haurchefant rushed ahead to meet the onslaught of knights he leapt up and with a graceful flip in air landed on the other side of the fray. With no glance spared back, as he had faith in his companions and more pressing matters ahead, Estinien tore off to the stairway and descended. A few guards at the bottom of the stair as he emerged met with quick ends when they engaged him and he hurried along. At the end of the hall was the primary interrogation cell where the 'extreme heretics' were taken for 'questioning.' Estinien burst through the door and his eyes fought through the darkness at the edge of the room. Quickly he made his way to the lit center where underneath the large wooden framework that stood prominently he could see a crumpled form. His rage surged and his heart hurt all at the same time as he took in the sight of his lover, naked and beaten. Bruises, blood, lacerations and more littered his frame as it lay on the ground, still chained by the ankles to the framework. If not for the small rise and fall of his chest he would worry the man gone already but, though shallow, he breathed on. Hurriedly Estinien made his way to his side, noticing more bruises on the man's front that he could see, bite marks as well. His fist clenched tightly before he relaxed it again and gently went to wake Aymeric. As his hands touched the man's side he watched as Aymeric flinched and it sent a pang through Estinien.

“No…. No more, please,” Aymeric mumbled as his eyes flew open and he moved back. Frantically the elezen man looked around for his attacker and after a moment took in the sight of Estinien, instead of Zephirin or one of the others. He felt relief and sadness flood over him at the sight of his lover. He had prayed to Halone above that he would be rescued and reunited with him, but at the same time to have Estinien see him like this. He felt dirty, used, unworthy of the man known as the azure dragoon.

“Estinien… I...” Aymeric whispered, his voice thick in his throat as he found himself hard pressed to even know what to say before finally he settled on the only thing he could think of, “I'm… I'm sorry.”

Estinien just stared for a moment, shock taking over him in place of the rage and anger at the Heaven's Ward. He didn't even know where to begin for once, nothing had prepared him for this. The signs of Aymeric's torture were traumatizing as he noted the very clear bite marks and the distinct signs of a coupling in addition to the physical torture.

“Where… is the key?” Estinien managed to finally mumble out, as he made to carefully back away from Aymeric to look. He didn't want to startle the man more than he already was. 

“The table, I think,” Aymeric offered as he struggled to hide the marks on his body. There were too many though and for every one he managed to cover with an arm or hand another was shown. Estinien made his way to the table and his frown returned as he looked through all the torture tools for the small key to the shackles. Eventually he found it and made his way back to Aymeric. With careful motions he unlocked the man's legs and immediately despite his stiffness Aymeric curled into himself more, his knees tucked to his chest after he'd made it to a sitting position. Quickly Estinien cast his eyes around for Aymeric's clothes and noted the crumpled and dirty rags near the man that looked suspiciously like his normal under clothes. Estinien stood and moved around, looking for something, anything to put on Aymeric til he found the man's armor over in a pile in the far corner. Carefully he brought it over and set it on the floor near Aymeric.

“Let's get you in this,” Estinien said, his tone thick as he tried to not let any of the anger he felt at the Heaven's Ward seep through. Aymeric was already withdrawn enough as it was and he didn't want to frighten him anymore. He reached a hand forward and fought the sadness that came when involuntarily Aymeric flinched again. The dark haired elf offered his apologies before tenderly he tried to stand for Estinien to help him redress. The dragoon let Aymeric lean on him as much as needed as Estinien helped him into his normal armor. It felt odd to not have the pants and shirt beneath but it was something he would have to live with for now. Soreness had crept all throughout Aymeric's body and he was sorely ready to hole up in his chambers and withdraw from the world, however there were things that still needed done. As he opened his mouth to speak footsteps came rushing in and Haurchefant and Lucia burst into the room. 

“Ser Aymeric,” the two called out in shock at seeing him mostly draped upon Estinien's arm. He looked normal in the regards of his clothes not being out of place however the was something in the way he held himself, or rather couldn't that bespoke what had transpired here. Quickly Haurchefant went over to help Estinien steady the man and the silver haired elezen couldn't help but notice the way Aymeric flinched at first before slowly allowing the knight to aid him. He didn't have to ask, he could tell something truly soul shattering had happened to Aymeric and Haurchefant had high suspicions that the mark he could see barely above the collar on Aymeric's neck told more than enough of a story. 

“Let's get him out of here,” Estinien offered as he took a side glance at Aymeric's face. Aymeric gave a sigh, his eyes cast down to the floor before he said the thing which Estinien dreaded to hear.

“We must go find the Warrior of Light,” his voice was quiet and it seemed a task for him to keep it steady.

“That's madness,” Estinien barked and Aymeric flinched at the tone, “We've just got you back from the bastard's clutches and now you want to go find them? Eager as I am to lay waste to each of them now is not the time.”

“There is something about them that leaves me with worry for our friend,” Aymeric continued, his voice drawn and weary, “And… I would try to reason again with my father one last time.”

Lucia and Estinien both made sounds of protest and Haurchefant sighed. Carefully he explained to both that they had to go up anyway to leave, going up a floor higher to find the warrior and make sure they were safe would allay any fears Aymeric had and show that even with what had happened his resolve had not wavered and he still stood resolute in his decision and course of action. Begrudgingly Lucia nodded and after a moment of glaring at the floor Estinien nodded as well. Aymeric gave a silent thanks for the ever observant nature of Haurchefant and the aid he'd given him in convincing his second in command and his overzealous lover to agree to his plea. As they made their way through the vault everyone was quiet, lost in thought. 

Haurchefant worried for his friend at his side and his lover above, both having had to face worthy adversaries.

Lucia for her commander who she had never seen this withdrawn and just how she would pay them back for this should she ever meet them in battle.

Estinien on how he wanted to tear the Heaven's Ward to pieces and how best to care for his lover who seemed cracked and broken.

Aymeric himself seemed lost in a multitude of thoughts. What he wanted to do versus what he needed to do. How he felt the need to scrub himself raw, but the wonder if that would even make a difference. He wondered how Estinien could even bear to touch him now when he could hardly stand his own skin. 

'Zephirin,' he thought, 'I pity the day you meet with Estinien on the field of battle.'

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well it's finally done. Yay. Hopefully you all enjoy it and I have to say I felt so odd writing this. Like even the earlier chapters were so much easier. This one was hard because of the nature of it. Thanks for putting up with this wild ride through the Vault with me.

**Author's Note:**

> Major thanks to my very kind beta reader, slytherinsupremacy95 (on tumblr), because nothing helps more than tossing plot bunnies, headcanons, ideas, and such back and forth, as well as having an extra set of eyes to read your stuff and determine if it just sounds weird in your head or in text as well. I truly hope this lives up to the expectations people have for it and they enjoy.


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